Not Waving, Drowning
by flyerfye
Summary: Rated for the shounen-ai warning. Semi-OOC and fluffiness and angst-ish, all stuck together. Lovely. :B Just a short two-person monologueish thing, if that makes any sense... argh, just read. I'm crap at summaries.


**Not Waving, Drowning

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WARNING- this story contains shounen-ai/yaoi/male x male-ness. Nothing explicit, but I'd prefer to warn those uncomfortable with it ahead of time. Nar. :B Now read and enjoy, fools.

- And as a side note for the POV switchiness, seme narrates first. Who you choose as seme and uke is up to you.:3nod: I also apologize if this is a bit out of character, but it's almost 5 am and I've been up all night.Yaay. Now let me just shut up and post this before I reread it anddecide I hate it. x.x; -

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There's a strange tightness in my chest, contracting as I gaze down at him, curled up in a ball against my chest, cradled in my arms. I know I care for him… I certainly like him… want him… but do I love him? He _said_ he loved me…but he had before. I don't know if I love him, I'm not even certain of his love for me. 

I shake my head, a few strands of my hair brushing against my temples lightly. The thoughts are persistent, forcing me to think them, forcing me to sort through the painful feelings. I rest my head on his, my cheek, rubbing against the silky softness of his hair. He stirs in his sleep and wraps his arms around my neck, bringing us closer together, and all of a sudden I feel an unexplainable, desperate urge to cry.

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He thinks I'm sleeping. I know he does, from the way he's looking at me with that much tenderness in his eyes. He won't meet my eyes when I'm awake, he's afraid I'll know he cares. He doesn't want anyone to know he has a heart; that he can love and feel just as deeply and passionately as anyone else. He doesn't even let himself know it.

He won't believe that I love him because he doesn't want to admit that he loves me.

I wrap my arms around his neck, keeping my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his strong chest under my face, the beat of his heart a steady, comforting drone in my ear. Just as I feel the warmth of his tears on my hair, a tear leaks out from under my own eyelid and down my cheek to his bare chest.

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I can feel his tears on my chest, warm trickles wetting my skin. I close my eyes quickly, trying to will away the few tears that escape without my consent. At last I drag a shaky hand over my eyes, hoping he didn't feel the tears that now glisten like dewdrops in his hair. I bow my head, burying my face in the silky strands, wrapping my hands in it, clinging desperately to I don't know what.

His hands reach up and stroke my hair, the back of my neck, trembling from an emotion I can't decipher. I'm twisting my hands tighter and tighter into his hair, knowing I'm hurting him but I can't stop.

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I can feel his tears, weighing like stones on my hair, seeping through and warming the skin of my back and neck. His hands are clinging and he's pulling my hair. It hurts, but I don't say anything, hoping he's working his way through the barrier, hoping he can love me.

My hands are trembling as I stroke his hair and neck, hoping to comfort him. His body shakes under my hands, trying to control his desperate, choking sobs. I'm whimpering softly to him, trying to assure him of my love, trying to make it all right.

At last, very gradually his hands relax their death grip on my hair, and I feel the last of his tears being shed.

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I'm ashamed of my open act of emotion, embarrassed that I let myself go like that, sorry I hurt him.

I say as much, whispering in soft tones an apology as he listens, still cradled in my arms, his head still resting against my chest. After a moment, I watch as his head moves up and down with my shaky breathing.

Suddenly, his arms are around my neck again and he's pressing his lips against mine in a bruising kiss, mouthing against them, "I love you."

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I can't keep my lips off his; I'm kissing the unresponsive lips for dear life, clinging to him as if he's an anchor, keeping me from being swept away. He's still as I whimper desperately that I love him, I don't care if he doesn't love me, I need to be with him.

Suddenly, he's kissing me back, the previously cold and unresponsive lips taking each kiss and responding with equally warm ardor and fervor.

We're be swept away by emotions we don't understand and neither one of us gives a damn because it feels so right.

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I can't stop loving him. I'm kissing him and ravishing him, knowing that even if he wants to leave me, he can't, he loves me and he wants me.

There's an exhilarating sentiment; knowing he loves me, that he can't leave me because he loves me.

There are tears in his eyes as I whisper, my lips close to his ear, my breath tickling the curls that curve around one ear, "I love you."

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The tears are unstoppable, spilling down my cheeks in a warm current, knowing that he loves me and that he wants me to know it. That he can show his love, say it.

He's confused, why am I crying? His hands are hesitant, unsure if he should continue, his lips thoughtful as he pauses before kissing me.

I shake my head, smiling through my tears and pull him closer, begging for him to continue.

I love him.

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He wants it to be known.

I love him.


End file.
